


Mudblood

by TheLostTargaryen



Category: HP
Genre: AU, Gryffindor, HP - Freeform, HP AU, Hogwarts, Hufflepuff, Mudblood, Ravenclaw, Slytherin, alternate au, first year
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-01-16
Updated: 2017-01-16
Packaged: 2018-09-18 01:04:08
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,156
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9357254
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheLostTargaryen/pseuds/TheLostTargaryen





	

I had never been on a train before. Even when travelling to King's Cross and listening to my mother's explanation, I was still afraid. Travelling alone at eleven wasn't something you did. But that was the least of my worries right now.  
I am Tessa Mulligan, eleven years old and apparently a muggle born witch. I received my letter in the post, strange on its own since you don't tend to get post at eleven, and noticed the address was rather peculiar. 

Tessa Mulligan  
32 Trinity Drive  
The Room under the Stars

My first question to my mother was what a 'muggle' was. She had no clue. I hadn't even read the letter and already became confused. But I opened it anyway for simple curiosity.  
Headmistress: Minerva McGonagall  
Dear Miss Mulligan  
We are pleased to inform you that you have been accepted at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Please find enclosed a list of all necessary books and equipment.  
Term begins on September 1. We await your owl by no later than July 31.  
Yours Sincerely,  
Minerva McGonagall  
Accepted? I hadn’t even registered. Witchcraft and Wizardry? I knew that didn’t exist. From the look of the letter, the authentic ink and the existence of a letter sent instead of an email or something proved this whole situation was odd.  
“Mum, do we have an owl?” I asked, re-reading the letter.  
She raised her eye brow, slowly taking the letter from me. She scanned it quickly, her pupils dilating and looking incredulous. I reacted the exact same way.  
“The room under the stars?” She asked more to herself than me. She looked down at me in question, possibly thinking this was a practical joke on her or something. I shrugged. “Do they mean those painted stars on your ceiling?” She asked. I shrugged again.  
It made sense; mum painted those stars when I had trouble sleeping, knowing I liked looking at the stars at night.  
“Tessa, have you joined a club in school or something? Have you given up piano?” She asked, her hands on her hips, creasing the letter. It caused me unexpected alarm.  
“No.” I answered simply. “I don’t even know what Hogwarts is.” It sounded gross to be honest, a hog with warts.  
“Well, there’s no return address.” She sighed.  
I still had the envelope in my hand, the red wax seal broken but with the insignia of a H still readable. I suddenly felt more weight within it.  
I searched inside, finding more slips of paper and oddly, crumbs of what looked like bird seed. I didn’t touch that stuff. But I was curious about the slips of paper.  
One was an old fashioned looking ticket for King’s Cross station on platform 9 ¾. Even more curious. A free ticket to a fantasy platform to a wizardry school with a message by an owl. Okay.  
That brings me to King’s Cross Station. It took some convincing to have my mother take me since she considered it something called ‘Spam’, chucking the letter, only to have another in the post the very same evening. We both wanted answers.  
I had seen modern trains and they aren’t like the cartoons on TV show them as – they are coloured and shaped like boxes. There was no steam or smoke. No magic to them.  
Mum held my hand close to her side, worry a common affliction with an only child. I had trouble keeping up. For some reason I had dressed my favourite outfit – a periwinkle dress with lace at the hem with white tights and black buckled shoes. I even asked mum to brush my hair.  
Getting on the platforms I suddenly felt nervous. No, not nervous, worried. What if the letter was a fake? Spam? A practical joke? My palms were getting sweaty in my mother’s hand. I heard the bustle of the moving trains that were going north and took a solid deep breath. The train stank of suits and pastries.  
My mother looked down at the persistent letter for the hundredth time, her frown lines prominent and defined with thought. “Platform 9 ¾?” She asked aloud. She then raised her head in bewilderment, searching each number.  
Naturally we approached the border between platform 9 and 10. Easy enough. But no 9 ¾. My heart was starting to beat a little louder and my eyes were searching in desperation. There was no train on either platform.  
“We could ask, Mum.” I suggested in a last effort. Mum looked down at me with what could only be pity and sadness. Nevertheless, I looked for a station worker.  
I spotted one, a whistle around its neck with a high visibility jacket on with his eye on his digital watch. I detached from my mother’s anxious hand and hurried to the man.  
“Excuse me, sir?” I asked in my small voice.  
His eyes reluctantly lifted from the digital numbers and looked surprised at the sight of me. “Yeah?” He quipped.  
“Ummm,” My nerves started to kick in, my gaze drifting to my dress and around the station. “I was wondering if-if…” I didn’t want to sound stupid. But I didn’t want to miss the train either. “…do you know where platform 9 ¾ would be? There’s no sign, you see?”  
I expected him to tell me to move along and get back to my mother. And that’s exactly what he said. Typical.  
I shuffled back to mum, heartbroken and feeling a fool.  
She moved her hand out so I could take it again. I didn’t. “We’ll get a treat on the way home. Ice cream or something.” She was trying to make light of the situation.  
I nodded absent mindedly, walking towards the exit gates.  
As we headed back, I managed to catch a group that had to be family, rushing towards where we had been. They looked worried, scarfs flying behind them and dignity out the window.  
“Come on, Penny, we’re going to miss the train!” The man, supposedly the father, was complaining to his wife, Penny.  
“We have plenty of time, Gerald.” She replied, keeping up her smile that didn’t reach her eyes. She seemed to feel the same as her husband. She looked back her young girls. “Lea, Anna, come along girls.” She hurried the girls along, one who looked my age and even more excited.  
“The train isn’t even here yet, Mum,” The dark haired girl, older and taller, mentioned. She smirked, seeming to say it was a joke. The younger one, lighter brown hair and brown eyes, looked worried. Just like I had.  
“Anna, don’t. Poking fun isn’t nice. Come on, Lea.” The mother called. “We’ve told you how this goes at home.”  
I had stopped completely from leaving, intrigued and once again curious. Mum was gone from focus.  
“I just go through it?” The young girl, Lea, asked in a small voice. She was standing in front of her mother, looking fearful at a brick wall. Anna looked smug.  
The mother looked ready to swaddle the girl. “We’re coming with you, don’t worry. You just go through it and it’ll take us to the platform for the train.”  
Hold on. I raised my eyebrow. Anyone would. Which train?  
I saw the girl visibly gulp, look to her sister who seemed to narrow her own as if a challenge. The girl seemed to accept it. One moment she taking a deep breath, the next she rushed with her suit case into a brick wall. I gasped, waiting to hear the impact of a body on concrete. I didn’t look away however.  
She was gone. Disappeared. The family looked proud rather than lost.  
“Now you, Anna. You should be used to this by now.” The mother commented, shuffling her daughter along. Anna rolled her eyes. Then she was rushing at the brick wall until she was gone.  
“I would ask her to look out for her sister but she is going to be busy.” The mother told her husband who shared a sympathetic look.  
“It’s her O.W.L year, Penny.” He sighed. “No more messing around with nifflers and chocolate frogs.”  
Was I losing my mind? Nifflers? More owls?  
I saw them set off in the same direction. I had to follow.  
I turned to my mother, who seemed to be fascinated with the letter once more. I tugged at her hand. “I know how to get to the platform, Mum.”  
You should have seen her face when I mentioned the brick wall.

They say the first sense you get of a place is the smell. I couldn't see anything for a few seconds but I could smell something and it wasn't the puddles of the platform I was just on. I couldn't put my finger on it. Croissants? Vanilla? Chocolate? It all blew away before I could know and suddenly I was surrounded by pure white steam and a much busier platform. My mother's hand was sweater than mine now.   
I practically had to drag her through the wall since she hadn't seen that family go through. I had to admit I closed my eyes. When I didn't feel the force or chapped bricks and just blank air, I felt myself smile.   
After a bombardment of peculiar scents and the steam floated by I could finally see where I was. An old fashioned red train with 'Hogwarts Express' took centre stage and there was a lot of it considering a hoard of people were placing their children on the carriages. I saw only kids get on and I suddenly squeezed my mother's hand. I gulped. I looked at my mother. She was bewildered and amazed as well.   
"Magic." I murmured, looking at all the kids joining the train, not afraid at all, just after saying their goodbyes.   
After Mum blinked a few times and took a deep breath, she crouched down to my level, staring intently into my eyes and brushes locks from my face.   
"You have all the books you need?" She asked. I nodded. Luckily the letter told me where to get these books in the 'muggle' word if using a password at certain bookshops. I had only read a few of them and only a couple chapters on A History of Magic by Bathilda Bagshot. I would have to read more on the train.   
We were both silent for a moment, unspoken words between us we could both understand. We both couldn't believe what had just happened and what was going to happen. Magic. Wizards. Spells. A school!   
I finally admitted it, "I'm afraid." I whispered. I wasn't going to fit in. I knew I wasn't the only muggle going to Hogwarts but I felt left out. What if I didn't take to magic? I usually excelled at my studies; my reports were full honours and something to make my mother proud. I didn't want to disappoint her. All I could see in her eyes was worry. But not doubt.   
"We're new to this," She replied. "You're not alone. You have the mobile I gave you for emergencies?" I nodded. I didn't know if I would get service but it gave me relief just to have it. "I'm sure there are kids just as confused, even ones who have known about this for a long time. It's just like starting a new school, sweetie. I know you'll be great."   
"But what if I'm not?" I interjected. "What if I fail? What if I get it all wrong? What if they..." I sighed. "...what if they made a mistake sending me there?" I mumbled, staring down at my shoes. Mum sighed before pulling me in for a squeeze. She spoke into my locks, "They chose you for a reason sweetheart, you have a gift inside your blood and I know you can do this." She kissed the top of my head. "Now, I don't know how much longer that train is going to stay so one last check you have everything and I'll help you on okay?" I nodded, fear slowly boiling in my stomach.   
We held hands to the carriage; Mum triple checked I had my uniform packed to put on in the train. She told me the usual lecture of don't talk to strangers, try to make friends and not to worry as much. She was probably coaxing herself more than me. One last long hug and I got on the train, one of the last bunch before the platform only inhabited worried parents and various animals.   
I felt myself feel warm with anguish as I held y suitcase full of belongings and looked down the corridor of the old fashioned train. There were students in different colours; from my reading I knew they corresponded with the four houses Hogwarts had: Gryffindor, Slytherin, Hufflepuff and Ravenclaw. But they were the older years, one my age had no colours. I swallowed my fear and walked down, looking for an accepting carriage.


End file.
